


Possessive Man

by Janina



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Jon, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 00:50:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10059992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janina/pseuds/Janina
Summary: Sansa has a photo shoot with the new it boy, Willas Tyrell. Jon comes along to make sure Willas knows who Sansa belongs to.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is all based on a dream I had last night in which Kit and Sophie were dating and he accompanied her to a photo shoot and made it clear to the guy she was doing photo with that she was taken...;)

"You know you don't really have to be here, right?" 

Jon Targaryen looked up from the book he was reading while his girlfriend, Sansa Stark, sat in the makeup chair getting ready for the photoshoot she was about to do. Her red hair had been curled so it fell in waves around her shoulders, and she had some kind of makeup on her face that made it look particularly shiny. Her eyes had what she called "the smokey look" about them, and her lips were painted red. 

She looked gorgeous. Not even real, really. But then, to him, she always did. She didn't need five pounds of makeup to look beautiful to him, and for Jon, her warmth, generosity, kindness, wit, and intelligence just made her all the more beautiful. It was her intelligence and her sharp tongue that had first attracted him to her in the first place. 

They'd been at an awards show together, though neither of them had been introduced to each other at that point, and a reporter had made a comment to another reporter how an actress had put on some weight and wasn't looking all that great. Jon had heard the comment and been unable to say something since his agent had forced him to get his picture taken. He'd heard a woman tell the reporter that the woman in question was pregnant and that pregnant women were beautiful, and even if she wasn't pregnant, what right did he have to pass judgment on anyone? "No one should be held up to impossible standards," she'd gone on to say. "Do you even have any idea how many men and women in this industry have eating disorders? Who are you to judge what is beautiful and what is not?"

Jon had turned around, uncaring of the cameras snapping pictures of him. He wanted to see the woman that had given that reporter a proper set down. He'd gone up to her and told her what she was said was brilliant and they'd introduced themselves. Later that night, at the after-party, they'd ended up sitting at a table together and talking until they were kicked out. They'd started dating and here they were, one year later. 

He smirked at her now. "What's wrong? Don't want me here?"

She rolled her eyes. "No, but you know how these things go. They're boring and long."

"Can I be blamed for wanting to be with my girlfriend after just returning from filming overseas?"

She laughed. "Jon, I flew out to see you practically every other week."

"I'm beginning to feel unwanted."

Now she smirked. "I just happen to know what this is about, and it's not about spending time with me."

Jon darted a glance at the woman spritzing Sansa's hair, and then looked back at Sansa. "Oh? And what is it about then?"

"Willas Tyrell."

Jon couldn't hide the way his lip curled into a sneer. He ducked his head so Sansa wouldn't see it but of course she did. 

"A-ha!" she exclaimed and pointed at him. "I knew it!"

Jon scowled as he looked at her. "What?"

"Don't tell me 'what', Jon Targaryen. I can read you like a book. You're jealous."

Jon really couldn't deny it. He was. And he had no real reason to be. It was just that everyone liked Willas Tyrell. He was an up and coming actor who charmed everyone he came in contact with, kind of like Tom Hiddleston, whom Jon _also_ did not like around Sansa. 

It wasn't as though Willas had ever done anything to Sansa - he'd never made a pass at her or anything - but it was just that everyone talked about how sweet and kind and adorable he was. He made women swoon everywhere and, well, Jon sometimes got nervous. He was a little rougher around the edges. He was sweet, but only to those he liked, and he was kind, but again, only to those who knew him well. Otherwise, he could be a little distant and reserved. Plus, this was Sansa. She was the female Willas. Everyone who met her fell in varying degrees of love with her. So if ever there were two people that could definitely hit it off... 

So, yeah. Here he was. Making sure the New Pretty It Boy knew that Sansa Stark belonged to Jon Targaryen. 

Possessive? Yes. Barbaric? Yes. Did he care? Maybe a little. 

And then the New Pretty It Boy entered the trailer, all charming smiles and swagger and Jon ceased caring. He glared daggers at Willas. Not that Willas saw him; he only had eyes for Sansa. 

The makeup artist left without a word, and Sansa stood to greet her partner-in-crime for the photoshoot. They hugged like old friends, and Jon's blood boiled. _Get your fucking hands off her, Pretty Boy,_ Jon thought menacingly and tossed his book on the chair next to him. That got Willas's attention. 

"Oh! I didn't realize you had someone in here with you!" Willas laughed. "Jon Targaryen, right? You guys are...just friends?"

 _You wish_ , Jon thought. 

Jon stood, aware that he was a bit shorter than Willas, but what he lacked in height he hoped he made up for in attitude. Willas seemed to catch on right away. His shoulders slumped a little and almost withdrew the hand he'd extended to Jon. Jon took it, gripped it hard. "Boyfriend," he said, making sure he said clearly. "I am Sansa's boyfriend."

Willas laughed nervously. "Gotcha, mate."

"Yeah, we're not mates," Jon said and let Willas's hand go. 

Willas nodded, looking as though the wind had been taken right out of his sails. "Right then. Sansa, see you out there?"

Sansa smiled. "I just need to change into what they gave me and I'll be right out."

"Great then." Willas nodded to Jon and left. 

Sansa looked at Jon, her hands on her hips. "Really? Was that necessary? You may as well have peed on me."

Jon didn't answer, instead, he sauntered over to the door of the trailer and locked it. He turned to face Sansa and found her lips curled up into a grin. "Jon, honey, what are you doing?"

He stalked her like prey. "I'm going to fuck you. Right here. Right now."

Her sharp intake of breath told him she was both turned on and a little nervous about the idea. Her gaze darted to the door. 

"No one will hear if you're quiet, darling," he said huskily. 

She looked at him as he neared, hesitant. "Jon--"

He cut her off by yanking her against him and kissing her hard. "Do you know what you are, Sansa?" he rasped against her lips. 

"No, tell me," she gasped. 

" _Mine_ ," he said and pushed her back to the makeup table. "You're _mine_."

“I am,” she whispered, tilting her head back as Jon left hungry wet kisses along her neck. When he started to suck a bloom at the base of her neck, Sansa squealed and pushed him away. Not that he let her go far; he yanked her back against him before she could escape. 

“I can’t have a hickey when I go into the photoshoot,” she hissed, and then giggled when he tugged on her ear with his teeth. 

“Ah, but then he’ll know you’re mine,” Jon muttered. “Everyone will.”

“You made it abundantly clear – oh!” 

Jon grinned as he set her down on the makeup table, sending makeup, combs, brushes, and other various items to the floor. 

Sansa gripped his shoulders. “Jon!”

“Why so surprised?” he asked as he pushed her skirt up her thighs. “I told you I was going to fuck you.”

She moaned in lieu of answering when he slipped his hand under her panties and stroked her clit with his thumb. She buried her face in his neck and clutched at him, gripping him tightly on the shoulders. 

“Do you want me inside you?” he rasped in her ear. 

“Yes,” she moaned. 

Jon unzipped and unbuttoned his jeans and shoved them down far enough to pull his cock from the slit in his boxers. He reached down and ripped her panties off, causing Sansa to shriek. 

“Jon! I paid good money for those!”

“And I love them. They tear easy,” he said with a grin and began to tease her folds with his cock. 

“Do it,” she whispered. “Fuck me.”

Jon thrust hard inside her, causing the table to shake. Sansa leaned back, resting her back against the mirror and spread her legs farther. 

“I missed you so fucking much,” he told her as he set a punishing pace inside her. “I hate being apart from you.”

“I hate it too,” Sansa moaned. 

“Take your shirt and bra off,” Jon ordered. “I want to see you.” He stopped moving, holding himself inside her as he pulled her up and helped her discard her shirt and then bra. He ducked his head sucked on one breast and then the next. 

Sansa leaned back again and placed her hands over her breasts while Jon began fucking her again. The table began to shake with the force of his thrusts. 

“You’re mine, Sansa,” he muttered. “No matter where I am. No matter where you are. You’re mine.”

“Yes, Jon, yes,” Sansa moaned and pinched her nipples. 

Jon leaned over her and kissed her hard. “Cum for me, Sansa, come on…”

“Jon,” she sobbed, sliding her hands about his waist. 

“Make yourself cum; touch yourself.”

She reached down and began to rub her clit quickly. “Jon…Jon…Jon!” Her legs went taut and her back arched as her walls pulsed around his shaft, causing Jon to groan.

“Fuck!” he shouted as he came inside her. “Sansa!”

He gripped her hips hard and held himself inside her as he came, his body jerking. 

Sansa pushed herself up and slumped against him, her arms around his waist. Jon tilted her face up with his finger under her chin and kissed her. “I love you,” he murmured. 

She hummed happily. “I love you too, Possessive Man.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled. “Just so you know, I have another photoshoot next week with Harry Hardyng.”

“I’ll be there,” he vowed. “You know, for moral support.”


End file.
